


The Importance of Presentation

by 88thParallel (CanadaHolm)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Based on a Tumblr Post, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Established Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Fluff, M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Red Pants, Sweet/Hot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-02-18 15:22:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13103022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CanadaHolm/pseuds/88thParallel
Summary: Based on a post made by VitruvianWatson on Tumblr:"After they finally get together Sherlock doesn’t know what to buy John for Christmas, so every time he’s walking down the street and he sees something in a shop window that he thinks John might possibly like, whether it be big or small, he pops in and buys it, and John wakes up early on Christmas morning when Sherlock comes into the bedroom and dumps an entire garbage bag full of presents on top of him."





	The Importance of Presentation

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Как важно правильно преподносить подарки (The Importance of Presentation)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13919859) by [PulpFiction](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PulpFiction/pseuds/PulpFiction)



John rubbed his eyes and sat up, surveying the pile of seemingly random items strewn across him on the duvet.

“What’s this then?”

“Surely you haven’t forgotten today’s date,” Sherlock replied, frowning in confusion from his place next to the bed. John couldn’t make out the expression on Sherlock’s face… a weird blend of frustration, worry, and… excitement? Hope?

John narrowed his eyes briefly, then looked down at the items again, and nodded, finally understanding.

“I suppose the lack of wrapping threw me off.”

“Tedious. So much work for something that’s sole purpose is to be discarded. What’s the point of covering the true gift in a pretty wrapping just so it can be ripped off?”

“It’s… I don’t know. About presentation I guess? The element of surprise.”

Sherlock rolled his eyes. “Are you not sufficiently surprised?”

“No … no, I’m definitely surprised,” John chuckled. He started to pick through the items; a beautiful new fountain pen, a pair of oatmeal-colored merino wool socks, a book on the history of battlefield medicine (which, ironically, was almost certainly the item responsible for the bruise forming over John’s ribs).

Sherlock seemed to read his mind, and briefly ducked his head in apology. “I forgot that was in there when I dumped the bag.”

“We’ll work on your delivery technique for next year.”

A flash of color on the grey duvet drew John’s eye, and he pushed aside a brown wool cap to dig out the item.

"Do you… have a problem with my pants? You never said.” John quirked an eyebrow as he examined the pair of soft briefs dangling from his index finger.

“Black, white, and grey pants do nothing for your skin tone, John. Red is much more your color.”

“For a jumper, maybe,” John laughed, then frowned as he stretched the band between his hands. “They look a little… small.”

Sherlock faked nonchalance. “They’ll be perfect. In fact, why don’t you try them on now?”

“I don’t know…” John replied mischievously, then licked his lips. “What’s the point of covering the true gift in a pretty wrapping just so it can be ripped off?”

Sherlock’s mouth dropped open for a moment in surprise before it twisted into a lurid grin. He knelt on the bed and swept his arm across the duvet, sending all the presents (some which looked breakable) flying to the floor.

“John, I can admit I now understand your point about the importance of presentation,” he growled, crawling up the mattress toward John like a predator sneaking up on its prey. “And the element of surprise.”

“I don’t think it’s too late for Father Christmas to add our names to the naughty list,” John cautioned, eyes twinkling.

“Let’s make sure that he does,” Sherlock replied, licking his lips and plucking the red pants from John’s fingers without breaking eye contact. He threw them to the side with the other gifts, then seized John’s head between his hands and brought their mouths together in a passionate crush.

Clothes were quickly discarded and Sherlock slipped under the covers with him. The brief chill from the room’s air seeped under the blankets and made John shiver before Sherlock’s body wrapped around his, radiating heat.

“The sentiment was nice,” John whispered in between desperate breaths, “but the only thing I want spread out on this bed for Christmas is you.”

“Looks like you got your wish.” Sherlock grinned, running his hands down John’s chest and stomach, seeking the heat he knew he’d find lower. “Now… let’s see about securing a place on that naughty list…”


End file.
